Of Sparks, Streams and Frequencies – An Interview with SANNA LU UNA

As part of the upcoming ZUNDER Festival (June 12–13, 2026, Innsbruck), we spoke with Vienna-based sound artist Sanna Lu Una. Together with cellist Angelo Beltrame, she will perform material from her debut album Pierce the Ground at this year’s edition of the festival.

(The full original article in German can be read here.)

komplex: What is the concept behind your debut album “Pierce the Ground”?

Sanna Lu Una: For me, “Pierce the Ground” describes a very powerful feeling — intense, driven, painful, linked to aggression and effort — a lot of built-up emotion that is released forcefully. It was a three year process of coming to terms with issues both past and present . The process was about transforming something intangible into something tangible, making it physical. It wasn’t just healing, but a transformation from negative to positive. And I looked for images that reflect exactly that.

Images of nature feature prominently throughout your album. Where does this connection come from?

Nature is my anchor in this turbulent world. While working on the album, I did a lot of scientific research to better understand the planet — glaciers, glacial melt, the subsurface, forests. And I’m really passionate about geology books. These are topics that fascinate me. Right now, I’m particularly interested in rivers.

With titles like “Liquid Poem,” “Ice Is Memory,” or “I Dream Water,” water, in particular, seems to be a central theme — even sonically — does that hold any personal significance for you?

I have a very personal connection to water. For as long as I can remember, I’ve always dreamed of the ocean whenever I feel emotionally overwhelmed. That’s where the song “I Dream Water” comes from. I generally have a tendency toward daydreaming or dreamy realms, and that probably influenced the album more than anything else. For me, it all blends together; I don’t try to dissect it too much. I think the album reflects that too — I try to dissolve boundaries and perhaps also break down the word “nature.”

What do you find questionable about the term “nature” ?

I find it controversial because the term creates a strong sense of separation between humans and nature. “Nature” is a term that is often romanticized which can give the impression that we are detached from it. But we are not — that’s where all life comes from, and we are part of it. We all use this word, but it’s important to reflect on it and consider how it shapes our thinking.

You use a lot of field recordings in your music — is that also connected to your fascination with the environment and nature?

Apart from vocals, field recording was one of my first points of contact with sound and music. This approach brings a documentary element and a sense of authenticity to the work. At the same time, it’s a way to get out of the studio or away from the laptop and actively engage with spaces and environments.

Is this also a kind of archive or memory bank for you?

Yes, absolutely. Whenever I go through my sound archive, I’m instantly transported back to those moments. It’s like a snapshot of atmospheres or like a time capsule. To me, field recordings have a certain immediacy to them — you experience the place in a whole new way. I agree with you; it’s a bit like collecting memories.

You have a background in the visual arts. At what point did sound become your primary medium?

I come from a background in painting and drawing, and at some point I realized that I was reaching the limits of my two-dimensional art. It wasn’t the form of expression I needed to feel complete.

Your sound and your music videos have a very spatial, almost architectural quality to them. What kind of spaces are you trying to create with your music?

I try to invite people on a journey and create a safe space where they can experience emotions and feel a sense of connection. It unfolds almost like a story or a dreamscape. Something immersive that listeners can drift into while still connecting to something deeply human and real. Perhaps it’s like a forest with thick undergrowth – you have to work your way through it, and if you pay attention, you discover more and more along the way. I would describe the spaces in “Pierce the Ground” as multi-layered.

What role does live performance play in this?

Personally, I think of live performances as the most wonderful setting, because you engage with the audience and celebrate that moment together — it’s a give and take. Right now, I feel that concerts are particularly important, because we’re all isolating ourselves and distancing from one another, and there’s so much fear, hatred and pain in the world. A festival or a concert evening can bring people together, or at least provide a distraction for the moment.

There are a number of instruments on your album, including strings — what do you think makes their sound stand out compared to natural sounds?

Alongside synths and digital instruments, you can hear the double bass, viola, violin, cello, French horn and tuba. There is something cinematic and powerful about these instruments. Classical instruments are steeped in cultural significance, and I enjoy deconstructing them and embedding them in abstract soundscapes. Old instruments have a life of their own, they carry history. Incorporating the material itself, whether wood or brass, was also important to me.

When you listen to music yourself — what inspires you?

I like to surround myself with music in my everyday life. I listen to all sorts of things. I’m usually very intrigued artists who manage to create their own universe. Recently, I was really moved by a live performance by the accordionist Suzan Peeters.

Have you ever been to the Zunder Festival as a visitor?

No, I’ve never been to the Zunder Festival before, but I’m really pleased to have been invited and I’m looking forward to the atmosphere. I’ve never been to Innsbruck either — there’s a river called the Sanna, an hour’s drive west of Innsbruck, and I’m planning to visit it; I’m really looking forward to that.

The interview was done by Brigitte Egger.